


John's 20/20 vision...not

by DaddyMcBeardy



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: I couldn't make the mclennon too explicit because my parents wanted to read, I'm Sorry, M/M, McLennon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaddyMcBeardy/pseuds/DaddyMcBeardy
Summary: John doesn't relly put an effort at work, nor can he see well, but one day he really crosses the line...
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	John's 20/20 vision...not

John couldn’t see. He knew that all his life. And he also knew that he needed to see for his job, and John was a smart man so he always made sure he could see because he liked his house and if he wanted to keep it he needed the money to pay the bills, but he was also an honest man and he had been earning his money legally for five years now, so yeah, he needed to see.

But John may not have been that smart after all, because here he was today, dressed as a guide inside the Louvre, waiting for it to open, and you’d say “well, what’s wrong with that?” well, the problem was that John was here but his glasses were resting comfortably on his nightstand next to his unmade bed, so basically John was screwed.

Sure, he may have been working here for five years but that didn’t mean he actually memorized what the paintings looked like, or where they were, nor the stories behind them. And you may ask yourself “but how?” well, the truth was that John didn’t really care for his job, it was really just tourists coming here to see the small painting of what he only considered as a random woman who wasn’t even pretty but that everyone referred to as the Mona Lisa and most of those tourists didn’t really know anything about art either, but they all wanted to say “I saw the Mona Lisa” and then throw in some random compliments and a few facts they heard from the guide, thus suddenly becoming art critics.

So going back to John’s lack of knowledge for his job, he usually read the names and main facts of each painting off the tag that was under it, then described what he saw, pointing out random details like “the artist decided to make the sky blue to give it a mysterious atmosphere” that he was sure in reality was blue just because the painter had to choose a color, but people pretended to listen and understand those “deeper meanings” and then he’d move on.

So on the whole, his job was easy, or that was when he could see, which again, was not today’s case. He knew that technically he could’ve said to his boss that he wasn’t able to be blind and a guide but he already wasn’t that good at his job and really, it was a miracle that he managed to keep it this long, so yeah, he had to manage on his own.

“Lennon, are you ready to receive the visitors?” he heard that familiar French accent, and knew it was his boss approaching him from behind, so he turned around, only to see a big, grey blur with spots of light pink as a face and hands. He had to admit though, his boss looked better like this.

“Ah, Mr. Boucher, you look different today, did you do something to your hair?” John said, giving him one of his best smiles. Mr. Boucher never liked John because he knew too that he wasn’t really good at his job but he never fired him for whatever reason, so John always tried to get on his good side by giving him compliments and making small talk, but as soon as those words left his lips he regretted them because poor Mr. Boucher was bald and if he had had glasses he would’ve shivered under the cold glare he received.

“Right…” John mumbled, now with a serious face, “I’m ready.” Mr. Boucher nodded briefly and walked away. John was so going to be fired one of these days, or who knew, maybe today was the day. The clock ticked by and at 9:00 a.m. sharp the doors opened. The usual crowd shuffled in and John started thinking about who to call to ask if he could crash at their place until he managed to find another job and a house. Maybe his college friend George still remembered him.

He walked towards the first group of visitors and said “Good morning, welcome to the Louvre, I’m John Lennon and I’ll be your guide for today” he repeated those words flatly, almost forgetting their meaning due to how many times he had said that sentence. He turned around and started walking pretending to know where he was going. He then thought that he probably should’ve at least smiled as he talked but oh well, now it was too late.

He stopped in front of the first blur of color that resembled a painting and stared at it for a few moments, trying to remember which artwork used the colors black and dark red, but then thought that most of them used those colors. Artists really liked painting dimly lit scenes for some reason.

He had to think fast though because when he looked at the tag under it, he simply saw a golden blur and he couldn’t stay in silence for a moment longer. So, to his reluctance, he decided to play as “the fun and interactive guide” and asked “Does anyone know this famous painting?” he didn’t know how famous that painting actually was but since this was the Louvre he figured it was famous enough.

Suddenly the slightly nasal voice of a man said “that’s Da Vinci’s La Belle Ferronnière, painted between 1490 and 1499.” Hm, thought John, that name sounded familiar to him. He tried scanning through the crowd to see who spoke but to no use, seeing as the crowd looked like a giant blob of colors that was really giving him a headache.

“Yes, who’s the informed man that gave us such a precise introduction?” John only hoped that what the guy said was right, or not only would he lose his job today, but he’d make a fool out of himself too, and he really didn’t want to move out of Paris, it would be too much of a hassle.

He saw a spot of black coming towards him until he could kind of make out that the boy was young, probably around his age. “yes, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Paul” the lad simply said.

“Ah, Paul, very good. And I assume you know the story behind it too?” he teased, secretly hoping he actually did.

“Well yes, actually. We still don’t know precisely who she is, but some hypotheses suggest she’s Francis I of France or Lucretia Crivelli.”

John internally sighed a sigh of relief, maybe he could stay in Paris after all. “Precisely! So, as we can see, this woman” because John had at least understood that she was one “is dressed in this richly decorated, deep red dress to indicate her royalty status and give her an authoritative yet delicate flair.” John was making things up as he spoke and thought he was doing a fairly good job too!

After a while he stopped talking to let people observe the painting and in the meantime tried to decide where to go next. The hall full of dark shades or with lots of orange and blue? He was good with dark shades so decided to go there next.

As he contemplated silently, someone, Paul he recognized from the voice, came up to him and said half chuckling “you know, what you just said about La Belle was a bunch of nonsense.”

Oh no, John thought, he actually listened to what he said! He should’ve expected it, this guy knew what he was talking about and sounded a little snob and perfectionist too. Well, John thought, he might as well spill the tea. “So you actually listened?” he asked.

“Well yeah,” he replied.

“Oops…well I’m sorry about that, I didn’t think you would’ve"

“Not to be offensive, but you’re a terrible guide,” Paul continued always in a friendly voice.

“Well that was very observant of you because I actually know nothing about all of this and I don’t even know how I got this job and I also can’t see because I forgot my glasses so I might as well be considered blind right now." There, he thought, he had said everything about his situation, now he just had to hope this Paul guy wouldn't think him dumb.

Paul laughed and said “well, then you have great improvisational skills.”

“Five years of this job without the proper knowledge will teach you that,” John said sarcastically “but tell me, how are you this well informed?”

“I study art at university to become an art teacher” Paul answered scrunching up his face into what seemed like a smile to John, who replied “Really? Good luck with your studies then, I’m probably going to lose my job today.”

Paul stayed silent for a few moments and then said “I think I know how to help you.”

John raised a questioning eyebrow. “I know how to move around Renaissance paintings, so we could go to that sector and I’ll tell you the title of the paintings and all that jazz and then you make up your nonsense” he explained.

John thought it over for a few moments and thought that maybe, with some luck, he won’t be needing George’s house after all. “Okay, but you need to tell me where that is too because I can’t distinguish renaissance colors from classic ones,” he answered and Paul snickered “don’t worry old man, I’ll guide you.”

“Thanks, son,” he said ruffling his hair and Paul immediately pulled away “Hey, careful there! I spent a lot of time styling them!” and proceeded to quickly fix them as if it were a matter of life or death.

“Oh, sorry darling, I didn’t mean to get your knickers in a twist” John teased.

“You know, I’m not obliged to help you out” Paul said smugly.

“Alright, alright, sorry. Note to self: do not touch Paul’s hair on any circumstance” he said half laughing, earning himself a shove by the art student who added “Anyways, I think we should move on” he continued and signaled to John where to go.

“Alright people, let’s continue” John said and went where Paul had pointed at. As they were approaching the next painting Paul quickly whispered “Saint John The Baptist, always by Da Vinci, 1513 to probably 1516”

“Saint John The Baptist, 1513-1516” John repeated to himself and then stopped in front of the painting. It was a blur of black with one big spot of a brownish color, so he guessed it was only one person, or so he hoped. “So, moving on to another artwork, here we have Saint John The Baptist, another well-known painting by Da Vinci.” John started, facing the painting so the crowd wouldn’t notice the excessive squinting he was doing, that wouldn’t be normal for someone who should clearly see what was right in front of him.

“We can see how the painter decided to use only two colors so that the eye of the observer won’t get lost in other useless details…” he continued saying random things and to Paul it was funny how John was actually right, people didn’t care too much about what he was saying, as long as it sounded like it made sense. So they went on like this for a few other artworks, until they got to the famous Mona Lisa and John was telling the visitors about how all that intricate landscape was actually painted because Da Vinci didn’t want people to see that the woman’s head was too small for her body and how that made her look like a weird little girl who had also lost her eyebrows probably while being near a fire or something.

Paul was struggling not to laugh out loud, but he just couldn’t help it and accidentally let a few giggles past his lips. People didn’t seem to pay him any attention though. And John could admit it, at this point he wasn’t really trying anymore. He was just saying whatever came to mind, and it must’ve been karma for all the times he gave the wrong compliments to Mr. Boucher or got to work late, he didn’t know, but of all the moments it could’ve happened, his boss happened to walk by exactly when he was telling the story of Lisa’s eyebrows and really, it was a good thing John didn’t have his glasses because he was mad. Really mad.

“Lennon!” his authoritative voice echoed down the hall. The boy in question jumped and, in a calm voice that didn’t match his emotions at all, said “Excuse me people, I’m needed by that man at the end of the hall,” he said pointing at the grey spot “I’ll be quick” or won’t come back at all, he thought to himself. He knew this was it. The story of the burnt eyebrows was too modern for Mr. Boucher’s tastes.

“Lennon, just what do you think you’re doing?” he said glaring at him. “My job?” John asked more than stated. “Do you think I’m in the mood for jokes? You know, I thought you would’ve been more responsible than that, knowing exactly you’re not one of the best workers here, but what do I hear you say? ‘And then she didn’t know how to take her eyebrows out of the soup’!”

John repressed his giggles, that threatened to escape his mouth and said “Oh please, Mr. Boucher, don’t fire me! Have mercy on a poor, lost soul who’s trying desperately to raise well his three kids as a single father!” and clasped his hands together, with his best sorry expression, but the man wasn’t having any of it, instead he simply said “Leave your work uniform in the staff room” and left.

Silence came next and then John simply sighed and whispered “sooner or later he had to do it anyway” and then headed towards the staff room.

Once he got changed into his regular clothes he started walking towards the exit. As he walked past the crowd he had been guiding up to five minutes ago, he saw someone had already taken his place. John sighed as he realized today could officially be considered a sad day for three reasons: he lost his job, George probably didn’t remember him, and he didn’t know where Paul was, therefore no chance of seeing him ever again. It amazed John how many things could go wrong in such a short amount of time.

He walked down the steps of the museum only to find the now familiar black blur of before. “Paul, what are you doing here?” he said. “I’m people-watching. I’m waiting for you obviously” the latter replied.

“It wasn’t that obvious! But shouldn’t you be enjoying your tour of the museum? The one you payed for?” John said but the boy shrugged “I’ve seen those paintings many times before, this wasn’t my first time visiting.”

“Oh…” John simply replied.

“What about your job though? Your boss seemed quite angry” Paul asked and John laughed drily “Oh yeah…I got fired. Apparently talking about eyebrows in a soup isn’t acceptable” Paul smiled remembering the silly story John had made up and said.

“What are you gonna do now?” This time it was John’s turn to shrug “I’m not sure, I got kicked out of college before I could even graduate, so it’s not like I have great opportunities. I guess we’ll see” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed and a little judged for what a complete wreck he was compared to someone who instead seemed to have his plans for the future clear and certain.

“Thanks for helping me out though. I might’ve lost my job but at least I had a fun last day” John continued, now his lips curling into a smile again.

“Sure, it was pretty amusing watching you come up with the weirdest interpretations of paintings I’ve ever heard. And believe me, being an art student, I’ve heard plenty of them” Paul said, laughing.

John chuckled too and then said “hey, maybe we could see each other again?” He was a little awkward, but that was because he always was with people when it came to this uncertain part of a conversation. Paul didn’t seem to mind though, instead, he looked at his watch and then simply gave John his phone number saying “I gotta go, Lennon” and then became a blur of black again as he walked away.  
The End


End file.
